The Leading Lady
by bittersweet rhapsody
Summary: CHAPTER SEVEN UP. He picked her up and she put her arms around his neck, burying her head in his chest. 'You're safe now,' he said softly. BalthierxFran. The unfortunate event that brought the duo together. On the brink of rated T and M.
1. The Star of the Show

"Oh no," the readers say, "not another balthierxfran 'how did they meet' fic"  
Sorry. . It amazes me how much this couple is overlooked, mostly the pairings out there are Vaalthier or Balthashe. Oh well. P. 

How the leading man and the leading lady became the best friends (or more?) that they are.

Oh and I almost forgot the disclaimer. I DO NOT OWN FINAL FANTASY. Perhaps I will someday, when me and my army of about three other girl-gamers conquer the Empire that is Square-Enix. But until then, I own nothing. As usual. XD.

On with the fic, then?

CHAPTER ONE -

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The citizens of Rabanastre carried on their daily hustle and bustle through the crowded capital of the city as usual, taking the occasional shortcut to avoid the blasted Imperials who provided nothing but a reminder of the "scum that they were" as the Imperials liked to say when they needed the 'entertainment'. For _entertainment_ was a concept not easily made into reality when it came to Rabanastre. Of course, you had the dress of the culture, with women showing a _bit_ more skin than some would deem necessary (or to some, they weren't showing enough...) and the men with their curious style as well. Of course the style of cold metal armor was far too common for the citizens' comfort, but they could only fantasize of the day where the metal-clad fiends would depart. Armor. All this armor. As if a simple Rabanastran citizen would carry out an assault so soon after the war! But, if you interrogated any simple Rabanastran man, they would tell you that some manage to wear their armor, well, in a rather pleasing fashion. 'Like who?' you might inquire. And if the date of questioning was a rather warm day not quite two months after the Archadian occupation of the capital, the man might point to a rather curious, far-not-common-enouh visitor who strolled alone along the streets today.

The visitor in question tried not to notice the stares, tried not to notice the whispers, the gawking, the whistles, the attempts at far, far too personal contact. It was enough to make her wish she hadn't left Home, a choice that she could not take back. But she had reason to leave. However, she couldn't help but wonder what made her come here.

She did admit to herself, though to her usual (_or used-to-be-usual_) company it was perfectly acceptable, her choice of dress was risque even for the female population of the Dalmascan capital. Not many women shared her taste, such as her choice of strapped stilettos with built-in...claws. Or, for that matter, her thigh-high metal...whatever you want to call them, but they certainly weren't for sport, or formality, but who spent time finding a reason for them? There was so much more than that, as the men quickly noticed and settled their eyes on her...midsection. Once in a while they would spot the bow and quiver slung across her back behind her silvery flowing hair, which discouraged them, to her relief, from making any further mistakes. After about an hour, she grew used to the stares and continued on her way without second thought until a young man stumbled in front of her, but being more graceful, she jumped back in time.

"I, uh, sorry miss, I..." he began, and then his eyes, to her contempt, began to wander. "Are you..are you a...a..."

"VAAN! Honestly do you have no respect!?" yelled a young girl who ran up and pulled this Vaan to his feet.

"What? I'm only asking-" Vaan snapped back at the girl.

"I'm sorry, he won't be bothering you anymore," assured the girl as she grabbed Vaan's arm, giving the woman a slight smile. "What's your name? I haven't seen you around Rabanastre before," she inquired.

"My...name is Fran..." the woman responded, surprised at the bright young girl's question. She returned the question, appreciating the girl who was the first to treat her like a living being.

"I'm Penelo," the girl responded, smiling again. "And this is Vaan, who, like I said before, won't be bothering you anymore."

Fran smiled at Penelo, and continued on her way as Penelo dragged Vaan back into the busy crowds, scolding him after every step. She wished every Rabanastran would act like Penelo, with a little thing proper people like to call respect. The world of Ivalice outside Eruyt Village severely lacked it. But she mustn't think of the village...

As the viera wayfarer made her way down the Rabanastre streets, she began to miss the Penelo girl already. Catching her off guard, a man was suddenly behind her, his arms suddenly around her waist.

"Hey there babe," he whispered in a low, raspy voice. Fran froze. "You look lost, you poor thing...why don't we head in this direction, so I can, uh, _show you around_, huh?"

"I can find my way around well enough, thank you," said Fran in a most unappreciative tone. If the man did not take his hands off of her soon...

"Come on, babe, let me give you a _ride around town_," the man persisted in a much too suggestive voice.

"If you do not take your hands off of me now," began Fran in her low, icy voice. "I wi-"

"Now, now, there's no need for this," said another man walking towards the the two.

"You back off, I saw her first," hissed the man at the new man approaching, feeling threatened by the man's younger age and, well, better looks.

Fran had heard enough. Jabbing the man with her elbow, she turned and swung her leg up in a fierce kick to the side of the first man's head as he clutched his stomach in pain. The kick sent him to the ground, and he looked up at her with a menacing look in his eyes.

"_Why you dirty little b-"_ he spat.

"Now, now, now! I think that's quite enough," said the second man. "There's no need for that." And with that, he took Fran's arm softly and guided her away from the busy street, leaving the first man seething.

"Now there, if you run into trouble again, you just come find me and I'd be more than willing to lend a hand, since I _am_ the star of the show of course, although you seem to have that part of the matter covered," he said in an amused tone.

"Come find you so you can lay your hands on me instead?" Fran said angrily. "I think I've had enough of _'the star of the show'_ and the men in this accursed city!"

With that, she roughly pulled her arm away, and having enough of the streets, she walked through the first door that she could find and slammed it behind her, cursing the race of Hume men.

The place was dark, but her viera eyes quickly adjusted. Many people were there, sitting at tables and some at long counters and long bottles lined across the wall behind the counter. This reminded Fran of the stock of salves in the village, and again she felt a pang of guilt for leaving. The bartender approached her.

"Welcome to the Sandsea," he said pleasantly. "Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything?"

"Golmore's Nectar," Fran said simply. Anything to bring her closer to home.

"Expensive choice," said the bartender. "Coming right up."

"No need to worry, I'll pay for the lady," said the second man from the scene before, sitting down beside her.

"I do not need your help," said Fran icily as the bartender handed her her drink. "Please do not follow me."

"Well if you cannot accept a drink I'll have to take you back home then, won't I?"

"Is that it? The viera must fulfill hume men's desires or else they are no good and should return to where they came from?!" Fran said, seething.

"Now, now then," the man began again as Fran began to drink from the glass in front of her. The drink had been in a different position than before, but she did not notice.

"Enough of you!" Fran said before he completed his sentence. And with that, she threw the rest of her drink at him and stormed out with as much dignity as she could gather.

As she walked out into the evening, she had made up her mind to leave the city at once in the morning. She was displeased to see that even in the evening the streets were crowded. Wanting to stay as far away from people as possible, she found an alley and continued her walk there. As she walked, however, her arms seemed to grow heavy, and soon her legs did as well. Gravity seemed to triple, and she had to kneel to catch her breath. As she looked up, her vision was foggy and she was seeing double. as she fell backward, she was caught before she hit the ground.

"Hey there, babe," a man said with an evil smile on his face and a bandaged gash on the side of his head.

"N-no..." Fran whispered. "Not you..."

"You know it, babe," he said, laughing. "and them, too," he continued, gesturing to two men standing behind him. "Why don't you take a walk with us."

Fran couldn't respond, nor could she stand. As the man stood up she slumped to the ground, her head spinning. She opened her eyes to see the men before her, and for the first time, she was truly horrified.

"I thought I told you to take a walk with us!" spat the man, grabbing her arm. Fran could do nothing. "Are you deaf?!"

"I'll take you myself," he said, beginning to drag her to the end of the alley, the men behind him sniggering. She thought she saw one unbutton his shirt.

"It's payback time, little lady," he snarled. "You should learn to watch your drinks carefully next time."

The last thing Fran felt before she passed out was her armor being ripped off of her already violated body...

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As she awoke to a clap of thunder and pouring, Fran realized she didn't have a clue how much time had passed, nor did she know where she was. She remembered the man with his arms around her waist, another younger man who took her away and later showed up in the Sandsea, her storming out, walking into the alley, and...

"Oh gods..." she whispered. She looked down at her bruised body with the rain cascading off of it. She tried to sit up but pain shot through to her core and she cried out, laying back down. She closed her eyes once more and tried to remain calm. What had she done to deserve this? As she cursed herself for being foolish enough to let this happen, sobs began to rack her body and her tears mixed with the rain for what seemed like hours. Drained, she pulled herself into a sitting position and sat against a brick wall, not being able to stop the sobbing.

"What have the bastards done to you..." a voice said softly.

Startled, Fran looked up into the face of the 'star of the show' from the day before.

"Not you too..." Fran said mostly to herself as she looked away and covered her exposed body as best as she could with her arms.

"There, there," he said as he touched her shoulders. Fran jerked and pulled away from his touch, startled.

"Leave me!" she commanded, beginning to cry again.

"I'm not going to hurt you," said the man as he touched her shoulder again softly. Fran did not pull away this time. She turned to face him with tears in her eyes. "Please," he said softly. "Let me help you." Fran said nothing.

The man began to take off his gold embroidered vest leaving only a white buttoned shirt. Terror quickly plagued Fran's mind again.

"Please, no," she said in a voice that could only reach a whisper. The man unbuttoned his shirt and put his arm behind the middle of Fran's back. Fran flinched again at the contact.

He moved her off from against the wall and passed his shirt to the other hand. He took Fran's arm gently and pulled it through one of the sleeves, and then did the same thing with her other arm. She looked up at him with confusion.

"Why?" she asked meekly.

"The star of the show must be a gentleman, after all," he responded with a slight smile as he buttoned the shirt up. "There. A little better?"

"Thank you..." she responded softly.

With that he put his embroidered vest back on and picked her up and she put her arms around his neck, burying her head in his chest.

"You're safe now," he said, carrying her out of the alley. He made his way through the empty streets, water still pouring from the dark sky. Fran could feel his wet shirt clinging to her slight frame. She sensed him travel down a long flight of stairs and into a building. She heard the chatter of many people but did not open her eyes. She could feel the stares. She gripped the man's neck tighter and slowly, the voices faded as he entered a less populated area.

She heard him pull some sort of lever and heard the hydraulic opening of a doorway. As he stepped in, she heard the door close. He walked into a much smaller room and with one arm holding her, he pulled back the cover of a bed and set her there. He knelt beside her at eye level.

"Are you alright?" he asked with concern in his face and voice.

"Yes," Fran said simply. "But I never asked the name of the _star of the show_."

The man smiled as he moved a strand of hair out of her face.

"It's Balthier."

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I like this one alot better than the last story I wrote. Please be a dear, and review for me? I'll love you forever.


	2. Good Morning

Sorry this took wayyy longer than expected. I wrote this whole HUGE chapter that was going to be chapter two, but it was almost 11 pages on the word processor...so I had to cut it off somewhere, and I did. I would have posted it yesterday but yesterday was a HORRIBLE day. But, needless to say, chapter three is already completed, but how fast it gets up depends on reviews ;).

Anyway, here it is, chapter 2.

Disclaimer: I own NOTHING! I swear! ..

"It's Balthier."

"Balthier..." said Fran. She had never met anyone named Balthier. But then again, she was only used to names with four letters and had no clue as to how common or uncommon names were.

"And yours?" Balthier asked, folding his arms on the edge of the bed and resting his head on them. Fran couldn't help but smile at how adorable he looked.

"Fran," she said simply.

"Fran. It's a pleasure," Balthier responded, with mock formality and what seemed to be his signature half smile.

"Well I never thought this would happen," Balthier continued.

Fran looked at him, confused.

"A woman in my guest bedroom lacking more clothing than a proper woman should, naturally!" Balthier said with a highly amused voice.

Fran hit him with a pillow.

"Now then, that's no way for a lady to act," Balthier retorted, returning to mock formality. "Such actions deserve punishment," he continued, throwing the pillow back at her. She returned fire with, well, more force than necessary, knocking Balthier off balance, his back against the wall and his legs apart like a toddler, and Fran couldn't help but laugh.

"You dare to laugh at me?!" Balthier joked, and threw the pillow back, but Fran rolled over to the opposite and to Balthier's 'disappointment' it hit the other wall.

"Now that's just unfair!" Fran heard Balthier exclaim and suddenly the bed shook a bit. She turned to face him, realizing that 'facing him' meant their faces being six inches away, as he had hopped on the bed and had lied down with his hands behind his head, smirking like there was no tomorrow. Fran raised one eyebrow. "I'll take that as a surrender, then?" Balthier asked simply.

"I suppose," said Fran, shrugging as well as she could laying on her side.

For a while the two sat in silence, just lying there, with Balthier staring up at the ceiling lost in a daydream. Or nightdream, since the last time he checked the time it was five before midnight. He turned to look at Fran and was startled to see huge tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry Fran but I can't allow tears; it's strictly against my policies," he said in a warning tone. She turned her head to look at him and the tears fell as she did.

Balthier gently wiped the tears away from her face, but this seemed to only cause more. His facial expression melted into one of pure, honest concern. He didn't ask what was wrong. He looked into Fran's eyes and for the first time in a long time, he felt helpless. He reached under the covers and took her hand in his and linked their fingers together in a soft grasp. Fran closed her eyes and tilted her head down and Balthier saw her shoulders begin to shake. He moved closer to her and lied on his side as well, facing Fran who did not look up. Removing his hand from hers, he placed his arm around her and pulled her close. Fran, once stiff, relaxed her muscles and allowed herself to melt into his arms, enjoying the warm yet exotic scent of his cologne. She looked up at him and saw that his eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly, asleep with his arm still around her, their bodies a mere six inches away. As she drifted off to sleep in his arms, she felt relieved... for it was the first time since she left the Wood that she felt warm and safe.

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Fran awoke to, to her immense disappointment, an empty bed. Although still sore, she sat up and looked around, not seeing Balthier anywhere. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, realizing she was still wearing his shirt. Deciding to try to find out exactly where she was, she stepped outside the room and glanced around. She walked to her left and saw captain's chairs and...controls? She had been certain he had taken her to his residence. Entering what was clearly a cockpit, she looked out through the windows to the hangar of the Rabanastran aerodrome. She sat down in one of the captain's chairs and folded her legs indian-style, looking around and familiarizing herself with the controls and various buttons and switches. Ever since she had left Eruyt, she had developed a fascination with the mechanical world, which she never experienced in the Wood.

"I suppose this is long overdue," said Balthier's voice from behind, startling her. She had been so fixated that she didn't hear him come in, "but welcome to the Strahl," he finished, smiling that half smile. "Ah! Silly of me to forget, but I come bearing gifts!" he said, taking Fran's hand as she stood up to follow him. He led her past the bedroom and into a room with a small table with steaming food and two, well, less than elegant plates. "Have a seat, fair lady," he said, bowing and holding his open hand out, gesturing towards a chair. She let out a small laugh and did as he requested. He took a seat opposite her, took his napkin, shook it, and placed the corner in the collar of his shirt with a haughty look on his face. Fran couldn't help but laugh, here she was at a 'formal' breakfast in a less-than-formal, tiny, worn-down room (but it had a table!). She took a bite of her 'feast' and was not disappointed. Then again, she hadn't eaten in a couple days, she could have eaten chocobo feed and appreciated it. She continued eating, and then realized Balthier wasn't doing anything, except staring at her with a raised eyebrow. She realized how fast she had been eating.

"Hungry?" he asked with a playful smirk.

"Not particularly," Fran responded with a slight smile as she continued to wolf down her food.

Laughing to himself, Balthier began to eat his breakfast as Fran finished hers.

"There's a box on the bed you might be interested in," said Balthier through a mouthful of food. "Thought you'd want your things back,"

"Thank you, sir," Fran said, imitating Balthier's formality as she stood up and walked to the bedroom. Surely enough, there were her small traveling pouch, bow and quiver, clothes, and armor, although wet from being in the rain. She tried casting an Aero spell, but to her regret it was not as strong as it once had been in the village. It was enough to dry everything off, however, and she quickly changed. She began to miss the smell of his shirt already. She folded it and walked back to the 'dining room' with it.

"A token of my gratitude," Fran said with a tone that Balthier had yet to decide whether it was an amused tone or a teasing tone.

"I couldn't possibly take someone else's belongings," he said to Fran, matching her tone. He paused, and then broke into a fit of laughter. Fran felt color rising in her cheeks, thinking he was laughing at her.

"I'm sorry," said Balthier, stopped at once by the look on her face. "It's just that my whole life revolves around taking other's belongings. Fran's look changed from embarasment to confusion.

"Well, I am a sky pirate, after all," he said.

Fran's face lit up with excitement, though her voice was calm. "A sky pirate?"

"Would you expect anything less of the star of the show? Makes for an interesting life," Balthier said, shrugging. His expression changed from disguised enthusiasm to a more devious countenance. "Would you like to try it?"

"I suppose," Fran said calmly, but Balthier could detect her overflowing excitement.

"Well if you only suppose," said Balthier, trying to hide a smirk. "I'll guess you'd rather not."

"But-"

"No, it's really alright Fran, I won't make you do anything you don't want to," Balthier continued with a hint of a sigh in his voice, turning his back to her to hide the wide smile that he couldn't suppress anymore."

"But I-"

"Now I'm just not sure, Fran, I guess you'll have to convince me," he said slyly.

Fran shifted her weight to one foot for a moment to think. She then walked towards Balthier and looked into his eyes with him looking back at her with possibly the most adorable look she had ever seen on him. She lifted herself up on her tip-toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Well who can refuse a request like that?" Balthier said, as his classic devious smile danced across his lips.

Hope you liked chapter two...like I said, chapter three is completed and if I get lots of reviews I'll post it quickly. If I get ten reviews by the end of the day, I'll post it tomorrow morning ). Sneaky, eh? XD.


	3. Balfonheim

Kapitel Drei!  
Claimer: I own it all. Every last bit. 

le gasp!

Thank you all for your lovely reviews. I appreciate them very much, they bring me happiness on rainy days, they give me strength when I am weak, and all that good stuff.

Chapter Three!

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"Well who can refuse a request like that?" Balthier said, as his classic devious smile danced across his lips. "Have a seat, Captain," he addressed her, gesturing with an open hand to the cockpit and bowing again.

By the time he straightened up, Fran was in the pilot's seat, starting the engine which made the floor under his feet shake. He walked to her and sat in the co-pilot's seat. She looked at him, waiting for instructions, but he just looked back at her.

"Well what are you waiting for?" he asked. "I have no clue how to fly this thing," Balthier said as he smirked and turned to face the outside. Fran smiled and looked away, shaking her head. She pressed a large button in the center of the control panel that opened the hanger doors. She looked around, and grabbed the altitude control, pulling it towards her ever so slightly. The Strahl lifted off the ground and hovered as Fran looked around for her next move. Balthier leaned towards her in his seat.

"She flies better when the landing gear isn't out," he whispered to her with a smile on his face.

"I knew that..." Fran said in a joking tone as she quickly flipped the switch that raised the landing gear.

She located the speed lever and pulled it towards her, but the Strahl didn't move. Flustered, she pulled it all the way back.

"Why won't it move?" she said in frustration.

"Try the unlock button," said Balthier.

Fran reached for the button.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" asked Balthier wish a raised eyebrow.

Fran looked at him, stared for a bit, then stuck her tongue out at him and pressed the unlock control. Big mistake. The Strahl's engine blasted and the ship tore out of the hanger like an abysteel out of the Henne mines, the sheer velocity forcing them deep into their seats. Fran cried out in excitement as Balthier laughed. When he could fight the force, he looked over at Fran who had the biggest smile he believed he ever saw on her. He looked out the window at the city of Rabanastre, which was approaching rather quickly.

"Fran..." he bean, "skyscraper. Skyscraper. Fran?! FRAN! PULL UP!"

Fran laughed in glee and just as it seemed they would crash, she pulled back the verticality lever and the Strahl headed for the sky, parallel with the building. She looked at Balthier.

"This is what bliss feels like," she stated to him, unable to stop smiling.

"Fran, you say that like I'm not aware of it," he said back to her.

As Fran looked up at the sky she became aware of how far away from the ground they were.

"Planning on leaving Ivalice?" Balthier said as he put his hands behind his head.

"Maybe," she said. She returned the verticality lever to the center, and the Strahl adjusted, now parallel to the far-off surface below. She pushed the lever forward and the Strahl went into a dive. Balthier raised an eyebrow at her, impressed at her boldness. She caught his look.

"Surprised?" she asked with a smirk of her own.

"Not in the least," responded Balthier.

The duo lost track of time as they flew all over Ivalice, above the Ozmone plains, watching the Garif go about Jahara, and over the Paramina Rift where the Kiltias looked up in awe. They flew over the sea, flying low and creating huge waves. Soon, Fran spotted a small city on the shore. Balthier sat up straight in his chair.

"Would the lady be so kind as to land us in the Aerodrome?" he asked 'formally'.

"If you wish," Fran responded, returning his prim tone.

She pushed the speed control lever away from her and the Strahl slowed to a crawl as she unlocked the landing gear and glided perfectly into an open hangar.

"Very nice," Balthier commented, giving Fran a nod.

Fran laughed at the compliment. "You're too kind," she said to him as they both stood up.

Balthier opened the door, looked at Fran, and took her hand and kissed it. "Please allow me to escort you, fair maiden," he said. Fran giggled. Balthier laughed. He never heard Fran giggle before, and he intended for that to change. "I'll take that as a yes," he said and led her towards the main center of the aerodrome. Fran felt a surge of affection towards Balthier. No one had ever treated her like he did. She and Balthier made their way through the crowds of the aerodrome and out into the blinding midday sun. Balthier held a hand above his eyes as Fran's eyes adjusted quickly. Balthier, getting used to the sun, blinked hard and opened his eyes wide, making Fran having to hide her smirk.

"I saw that," said Balthier, rubbing one of his eyes.

"My sincerest apologies," Fran responded with a smile.

The shore to Fran's left caught her attention, and she looked at it with awe. She had never seen anything like it. It was beautiful... almost never ending, with perpetual waves whitening every few moments. She must have been too fixated on it, for Balthier lunged towards her and pulled her backwards, and a sky pirate carrying a large, heavy sack on his back ran by.

"Didn't he see me?" asked Fran indignantly.

"Of course he did," Balthier said. "Welcome, Fran, to Balfonheim Port."

"So this is Balfonheim..." Fran said to herself, looking around. "It looks dangerous."

"It can be, sometimes. It is improving though, someone, Reddas, I believe, stepped up as head of Balfonheim, ever since then the port is becoming a well-maintained town, which isn't all too common for places filled with sky pirates. I don't trust Reddas, though," Balthier explained as he and Fran began to walk inwards towards the town's center.

"Why not?" asked Fran.

"Let's just say he has suspicious ties to Archades," Balthier explained.

"What's wrong about connections to Archades?" Fran pressed further.

"I'm not too fond with the place," Balthier said with a grave shadow in his eyes and a rather unpleasant tone. Fran, not wanting to upset him more, was silent the rest of the walk, feeling guilty.

After their walk they approached a wooden door. Balthier pushed it open and immediately they were hit with a wall of sound. Glasses were clinking, a drunk pirate singing, a table cracking as a fight broke out, and the countless people crammed into the small bar talked and laughed without intention to stop.

"Glamorous, isn't it?" said Balthier, laughing to himself. "Welcome to the Whitecap. Do you want anything?"

Fran quickly declined. After what happened the last time she ordered a drink, well, obviously things didn't go so well.

"_Oh BalTHIER_!" a woman squealed from behind the counter.

"Gods, no..." Balthier whispered as she ran towards him, leaping onto him and wrapping her legs around him, kissing his forehead fanatically. Balthier grabbed her waist and quickly wrenched her off of him. Fran narrowed her eyes as she was hit with a pang of jealousy that traveled upwards like a thermometer in hot water.

"Where have you BEEN?! I've MISSED you! I was so afraid something HAPPENED to you! I've been simply DYING to see you again! Did you miss me? Did you miss me!? _Did you m_-"

"AIMEE!" Balthier exclaimed. "_Relax_ a bit, will you? You're going to have a heart attack."

"_Oh BalTHIER_ I just can't HELP it!" she continued, bouncing up and down on her feet. "You have NO idea!" With that, she leaped at him with puckered lips and open arms. Balthier barely managed to cover his face with his open palm. "Oh oh OH you MUST have a drink! Come come!" she exclaimed as she seized his hand and dragged him through the crowds to the back of the bar. Fran followed at a comfortable pace, not wanting to say anything she'd regret. She approached the small table and saw Aimee chattering endlessly with wildly animated gestures and Balthier with his head in his hands. Fran sat down in one of the two remaining chairs.

"Aimee," Balthier began, trying to get her attention. She kept talking. "Aimee..Aimee! AIMEE!" he finally yelled.

"Yes yes yes?" she said, her eyes wide and her mouth open.

"Would you be so kind as to get drinks for us?" Balthier asked.

"Of _COURSE_!" Aimee said, jumping up and rushing to the bar. When she was out of sight, Balthier looked at Fran.

"Let's go," he said quickly, grabbing her hand and heading towards the door as fast as possible. They made it out, miraculously, ducking under punches delivered to a rowdy pirate and evading the fall of one that was a bit too drunk. They caught their breath as the door was finally closed behind them, sounds of waves replacing the craziness of the whitecap. Fran's thoughts couldn't leave Aimee and Balthier.

"You've had history with her," Fran stated, looking at the ground.

"She wishes," Balthier said, sounding most displeased. "Come on," he said brightly, "or we're going to miss what I brought you here for." Her mood didn't seem to improve. "Fran, do you really think the star of the show would delight in the company of a deranged bird like Aimee? We spent enough time together for her to learn my name." He took her hand and led her through a bazaar and around corners and down walkways that a visitor would never had found on their own. The sun was beginning to descend, and soon she heard the sound of the ocean. The two made one more turn and the sight around the corner took Fran's breath away. As she stepped off the walkway and on to the sand she looked up at the most spectacular sight she had ever seen. The sky was grazed with pink and purple ribbons as the sun sunk into the sea whose waters played with the light as it danced across the surface.

"The Balfonheim sunset," said Balthier, as though he needed to announce it.

"Even in Eruyt...I've never seen anything like this..." Fran said in awe.

"It's okay, I suppose," Balthier said, smirking.

Fran walked farther down the beach and stood just where the edge of the water meets the shore. She sat down on her knees and gazed at the horizon, and for the first time, she was happy that she left her Home. It wasn't worth missing out on the amazing experience she was going through.

She was quickly pulled from her thoughts by a splash of uncomfortably cold water. She looked in Balthier's direction and sure enough, there he was, pretending to be looking at the horizon but unable to conceal his smile. Fran reached down and splashed back at him, and he turned and walked towards her.

"That was quite rude and uncalled for, Fran, and I do hope that you will refrain from it. The star of the show does not deserve such treatment," said Balthier with a 'serious' look on his face. As if seriousness had anything to do with Balthier...

"I don't know what came over me," said Fran as she tried to look guilty, hugging her knees and resting her chin on them.

"Apology accepted," Balthier said as he sat down next to her.

"I don't recall apologizing," retorted Fran.

"I am most offended," looking shocked. Fran smiled.

"You know," Fran began, "I really don't think you fit the title 'star of show'.

"Well what am I, if not the star?" he responded. Fran took a moment to think.

"I think you're more of a 'leading man'."

Balthier tilted his head back in thought. "Well I do like the sound of that, I must admit." He looked straight at Fran, with his classic half smile as he stated, "I suppose you that makes you the leading lady, then?"

"I could get used to that," she responded as she leaned back on her hands.

Balthier laughed to himself as he put his hand over hers. "You might as well."

Fran looked at him and he turned his head to look at her and smiled.

"Are you used to it yet?" he asked, linking their fingers together.

Fran smiled. "Almost."

Fran rested her head on Balthier's shoulder and looked out to the sea. _This is the definition of cliche, _she thought_, and hopelessly romantic..._

_But there's no where in Ivalice I'd rather be. _


	4. Reflections

Sorry it took so long, but my free time to write has been cut down alot. My parents are being ridiculous and forcing me to read the book assigned for english next year because there's _ONLY_ a month left til school...psh. so I'm getting up early to write before they wake up, which will give me a solid three hours of free time. But the story must go on, right?

Enjoy chapter four, and remember, not reviewing makes baby Jesus cry XD. We don't want that, do we?

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except the plot of this fic. Of course. .l

On with it, then?

**.Balthier's POV..**

Night fell upon the port that never sleeps. Balthier looked out to see with Fran asleep against his shoulder. He didn't want to wake her, but he didn't particularly want to be swept away by the Balfonheim tides. Slowly, carefully, he moved his right arm around Fran's back and the other under her knees and took his time standing up. Leaving the shore, he stepped back on to the cobblestone paths of the outer port, making his way slowly back towards the aerodrome. The town square was brimming with activity and shouts, with pirates singing a drinking song not far off, folk music playing in the Whitecap through the open door, and Aimee dancing a jig happily on a table, the hem of her dress flowing around her knees and her shoes creating a beat on the table that Balthier recognized from Archades, mixed with a lively Balfonheim touch. He did miss her a bit, as he had much more history with her than he wanted to let on to Fran. Aimee had been a close friend back in Archades, when he had no one else to turn to. Underneath the extreme peppiness, there was once a quiet girl who understood and shared his pain. He and Aimee had escaped Archades together, arriving at Balfonheim, which changed both of them significantly. While Balthier was happy with his new life and freedom, Aimee was content in Balfonheim, and it was clear how happy she was here. Balthier smiled to himself as Aimee laughed gleefully as a young pirate stepped onto the table to join her in her dance, and left the lighted town square back to the Aerodrome.

As he made his way back to the Strahl, his thoughts returned to the viera asleep in his arms. Opening the door, he stepped into the airship and laid Fran down on the bed and sitting on the edge of it, hands folded, elbows on his knees, eyes on her. He sighed, wishing she could stay, but knowing she would most likely leave tomorrow. He thoroughly enjoyed her company, having been alone since he and Aimee went separate ways. Of course, there were the occasional visits to Aimee at the whitecap and the women who refused to unhand him as Archadians did their gold, but no one provided him with the sense of companionship like Fran.

As he gazed at his leading lady's closed eyes, he thanked the gods for at least giving him the chance to know another woman who wasn't in his bed because of shallow desire.

.-.

Short, I know, but don't worry, another chapter is coming very quickly. I just wanted to give a little insight into Balthier's thoughts...the next chapter will be Fran, and it probably will be Fran for the rest of the fic unless I need a Balthier chapter again XD.  
[(-Hopes no one will kill her for the short chapter...-)

**Oh, and by the way, I will be writing a prequel to this fic based on Balthier and Aimee. Should be fun. XD.**

**Check back soon for chapter five :)**


	5. Fran, Please

A longer chapter so I won't be murdered. Heh. 

We're back to Fran's POV now.

BEFORE YOU READ: Just in case you don't know, the term Nightingale Syndrome is what they call it when a nurse and his/her patient fall in love and whatnot.

You all know the disclaimer...

And, um...I can't think of anything else to say. On with the show.

Fran awoke, not on the beach, but back in the Strahl. She sat up, allowed herself to wake up a bit more, and stood up. She took a step, but heard an unpleasing crack. Looking down, she saw that she had stepped on a glass picture frame which had been halfway under the bed. Flooded with guilt, she quickly knelt down to pick up the glass shards, but her hands stopped as she looked at the picture.

Pictured in the frame was a young woman. A young, beautiful woman. She had long, flowing auburn hair, brilliant hazel eyes, and a contagious smile. Fran frowned, realizing that this must be a girlfriend of Balthier's... why else would he keep a picture of her? It was not of Aimee, and if he and this woman had went their separate ways, why keep such a beautiful picture of her in his room? Fran scolded herself for feeling like this. Balthier was a rare soul. A pirate, but a gentleman. How could he not have a woman like this in his life already? She remembered the way Aimee had reacted to him, and she had only met Balthier once. He could easily attain any woman he wanted, and the woman in the picture certainly seemed the prize a man like him would be after.

Fran sighed, and contemplated her own feelings. It was unlike her to feel this way about anyone, much less a hume pirate. She reasoned that whatever she was feeling must have stemmed from her gratitude of his treatment of her after the horrid night in Rabanastre. A simple case of Nightingale syndrome. But her conclusion did not do much to ease her mind. For she had probably overstayed her welcome; Balthier had done more than enough for her, and she did not want to be a burden any longer.

Fran finished cleaning up the shards of glass and threw them away, taking the unguarded picture to the cockpit, where Balthier sat in the pilot's seat, piloting the Strahl in no specific direction. Fran walked up and sat down in the co-pilot's seat with the picture in her hands. Balthier did not seem to notice, as he was gazing blankly out into the skies. Probably thinking of her, thought Fran. She said his name and he quickly looked over, startled.

"I am sorry," she said, apologizing both for startling him and for the picture frame that she broke as she handed the picture to him. After he flipped a switch setting the Strahl in an autopilot course for Rabanastre, Balthier took it and looked at it. Fran could not identify the look in his eyes.

"I did not see it," she explained in her quiet, icelandic accent.

"It's alright, Fran," Balthier responded, giving her a warm look. He placed the picture off to the side. "We should be in Rabanastre within five minutes," he added, returning his gaze to the skies.

"Thank you for-" Fran began, but then she paused. What was it exactly that she was thanking him for? For rescuing her when she was abused and left in an alley? For making her feel welcome and safe? For the night in Balfonheim, which had been the best day she had had in years? Balthier looked at her, waiting.

"-for everything," she finished, but for some reason she could not look into his eyes.

"You do not need to thank me, Fran. I would have done the same for everyone."

Fran felt a quick sinking feeling at his words._ I would have done the same for anyone_. With her thoughts on his feelings confirmed, Fran rose from the co-pilot's seat as the Strahl pulled in to the Rabanastran Aerodrome's hangar. Balthier shut down the Strahl, and then rose and walked over to Fran. An air of closure hung around the pair, an atmosphere that Fran inwardly hated, as already the feeling of loneliness began to tie down her spirit once more. Balthier opened the door leading to the dock and walked with Fran to the entrance to the West Gate. Fran turned to face him, and he smiled warmly.

"It's been a pleasure, Fran," he said, in an unusual voice that held no hint of joking or sarcasm. Fran gave him a small smile in return. The two stood there for a moment, and then Balthier stepped forward with his arms open and Fran leaned forward as well, and they met in a warm embrace. His hold on her was so unfamiliar... she was so used to the simple greeting gestures exchanged between viera, or the quick hugs given by her sisters' thin arms, but this...this was different. She felt warm, she felt safe, she felt guarded. She wished she could stay in the embrace even a little bit longer, but she knew she had kept Balthier from his freedom long enough. The embrace broke and both stepped back, and Balthier smiled slightly at her as she gave him a slight nod, then turned and walked down the steps, and soon Balthier vanished amidst the crowds as the huge door to the center of Rabanastre closed.

She knew nothing of Balthier's wish that that embrace had not ended.

Later that evening, Fran found herself still wandering aimlessly down the darkening Rabanastre streets. Was this truly the life of the viera wayfarers? Emptiness once again returned to her core, and she felt as if her heart was actually aching. Rounding another corner, familiarity struck her. She was just outside the Sandsea. Relief washed over her with the familiar sounds that flooded her ears. She didn't know why she felt somewhat at home here, but it was a good feeling nonetheless. She ordered a small drink and sat alone at a table, straight-faced and calm, as she always was. She glanced around the room, not really looking for anything in particular, when she saw a cluttered board against the wall. Mildly intrigued, she finished her drink and stood up to examine it. On the board were pictures of various fiends and monsters and pleas to have them defeated for rewards. Thinking it would be a good way to explore Ivalice and support herself, she decided to answer a bill. She selected a bill for a fiend called the "Grauspitze", which appeared to be some sort of wolf. Taking the bill off of the board, she read it slowly, then headed towards Lowtown to meet the petitioner.

As she opened the metal gate she peered down the staircase and was slightly apprehensive, but continued down and into the damp tunnel of the town's entrance. She walked down the dark walkways and through the quiet, dripping alleys, with dark strangers glaring at her from inside doorways and above on decomposing walls. She pressed on, walking quicker and quicker, and finally reached the petitioner...although she was quite different from the strange petitioner she was expecting to find.

"Are you Filo?" she asked a young girl, kneeling down.

"Yes," Filo replied with a sweet smile. She eyed the bill in Fran's hand. "You've come to hunt the Grauspitze?"

"Yes," Fran said. "Where can I find it?"

"It's in the Giza Plains...I'm not sure where, but I was there playing with my friends and it just appeared! The three of us ran, but only two of us made back...it cornered Kytes! He was able to hide under a bridge where it couldn't reach him, but I'm so worried for him! Please find him for me!" Filo began to tear up.

"Do not worry," Fran said in a comforting voice. "I'll find him for you." Filo sniffed.

"Please hurry," she said.

Fran made her way back up to Rabanastre. When she closed the gate behind her, she realized that she had left her bow on the Strahl. She did not want to bother Balthier...but she needed her bow. (She had more than enough gil to buy a new one, but...) She used the moogling to get to the West Gate and entered the Aerodrome. Her heart quickened - she was happy to be going to see Balthier again. She hadn't felt right ever since she left. There was something about him. Something that made her forget the emptiness she felt when she left the Wood. She would return his favor to her, somehow. She couldn't let an instinct like this go. She hurried to the counter.

"I need the number of the hanger holding the Strahl," she said quickly to the lady behind the counter. A smile crept across her face, a smile that it seemed only Balthier could cause. Why hadn't she come back sooner?

"One moment please..." the woman checked her computer, and then looked back up at Fran. "I'm sorry ma'am, but the Strahl left quite some time ago."

Fran's heart sunk. What made her think he would be still there, waiting? He had his skies to return to...but she felt so at home with him in the Strahl. _This is ridiculous,_ she thought._ I was with him a mere two days. I need to clear my head. I need to forget this._

She took the moogling back to the Sandsea and headed south to the weapon shop. Purchasing a new bow and a quiver of arrows, she made her way to the Southgate and headed into the Plains. Her mind didn't leave the pirate.

The heat was intense, and quickly she felt beads of perspiration on her forehead. She pressed on through the air that glimmered from the heat of the sun. She had no clue how long she had been walking. Then she saw it. And needless to say, it was much more...formidable than she had anticipated. Towering above her, the wolf cast a shadow that seemed to hide her from the sun. Fran reached for an arrow, pulled back, and aimed for the beast's throat. Releasing her grip, the arrow shot away from her, spinning with deadly force and embedding itself into the dirty gray coat of the fiend. The animal raised its head and roared in pain, searching for its attacker. It's black, merciless eyes rested on Fran, and it began to charge. Fran took quick steps back, and fired another arrow, this one finding its target in the creature's left shoulder. Snarling, it continued barreling towards her. Keeping on her toes and bent knees, she waited til the wolf was a mere ten feet away and leaped away to the side, somersaulting and landing gracefully with one leg bent and the other extended, her hand on the hot sandy ground for balance. She quickly stood and prepared another arrow, aiming between the beast's eyes and firing as it turned to face her. On impact, the wolf turned its head away in pain and lifted a huge claw and snapped the arrow off, angry as ever. It raised its paw again and before Fran could prepare, it swung at her with unavoidable force as she was sent flying off to the side, tumbling and rolling to a stop on her back, with the wind knocked out of her. She gasped and exhaled heavily, immobilized. Unable to stand, she quickly readied her bow, rolled onto her stomach and fired, the arrow piercing the fiend's hide directly above it's heart, and it howled with an earsplitting ring painfully harsh on Fran's viera ears. Back up on her feet, she ran straight towards the creature, readying another arrow and halting directly under her target. Aiming directly above her head, she released the arrow and was met with another deafening cry of pain as the titan wolf's front legs buckled, nearly crushing Fran as she dove out from underneath it. It turned it's head and snapped at her, grazing her stomach as she flattened herself against the hot sand. She flinched and tried to ignore the searing pain from the slash of the beast's fangs. She whipped another arrow from the quiver and aimed, released, and sent the arrow rushing through the air with a ringing echo as it pierced the fiend's eye. The animal did not react quickly. It swatted at its eye and snapped the arrow off, but did not reopen the eye, as it was indefinitely blind. Turning to face Fran, a fierce snarl escaped its mouth with each exhale. At first Fran thought it would fall to the ground, and without thinking, she lowered her bow, staring up at the animal, and was almost paralyzed at its gazed. She had let her guard down. The wolf leaped forward and swiped at her with its paw, sending her flying again. A searing pain shot up Fran's right arm as she landed on her shoulder, wincing, and heart dropping as she saw her bow fly away from her. The wolf reared its head and stared her down, snarling, and slowly advancing towards her. To her horror, it raised itself on its hind legs and howled. Surely she was done for. As it came down, Fran shut her eyes tight, but a different sound ripped through the air, a sound of powerful turrets from off in the distance. She heard the wolf yelp in pain and opened her eyes to see it lying off to the side, howling in pain with blood running from its side. Fran got up on one knee and her left hand, pushing herself into a standing position and waiting for the wolf to rise to its feet. It did not, and another round of firing turrets pierced the air again, their bullets silencing the Grauspitze for good. She turned looked around her looking for the source of the bullets, but saw nothing.

"Gotcha!" shouted a voice from above, and Fran looked up to see none other than Balthier smiling down at her from an open ramp on the underside of the Strahl. "Miss me?" he said, jumping down to her with that classic smirk on his face. Fran looked at him with her inquisitive ruby eyes, wondering whether the heat had finally gotten to her or not. Balthier laughed.

"You looked surprised!" he said with a smirk still on his lips.

"You could say that," Fran said, returning his smirk.

"Fran, please," he continued, pulling her into an embrace. "What kind of leading man gives up his leading lady just like that?

Hope you liked it. To tell you the truth, I am extremely disappointed with it. I don't know why. Please tell me what you thought so chapter six won't be a disaster x.X.


	6. Sky Pirates?

I AM SO SORRY. I hope you didn't give up on the story, it's just that I just got a job, I've been reading this ridiculous book for A.P. British Lit, freaking out about my schedule, and right now I'm in Florida vacationing and I have the internet so I'm taking the chance to write. Pleeze forgive me \. 

Disclaimer disclaimer. I own nothing.

Hope this turns out better than chapter five.

Warning: This chapter contains a bit of violence and mild language.

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"Fran, please," he continued, pulling her into an embrace. "What kind of leading man gives up his leading lady just like that?

Fran answered his signature smirk with her small smile, and Balthier broke the embrace, and squeezed her hand before he let go. But as he looked up, he exhaled in frustration, realizing that in his dashing-sky-pirate moment, he had left the Strahl...in the air. Fran raised an eyebrow at him.

Balthier's face flushed. "I..well..uh..." he stuttered as he scratched his head, thinking of a way to recover his ship, when Fran lept from behind and landed gracefully onto the open ramp.

"Damn you viera!" Balthier exclaimed with 'disgust'. Fran laughed. She ran up and turned the corner, heading towards the cockpit. She sat down in the captain's chair and was reaching for the controls when she saw the picture in the broken frame again, with a painful reminder that Balthier already had this woman in his life. She stared for a few seconds, but shook her head and piloted the Strahl down, scolding herself for letting her feelings develop like this. After all, she couldn't even identify them. Was it appreciation for helping her in her worst hour? Was it elation from finally having a companion since she left the Wood? Or did this feeling come from simply encountering and befriending a Hume who truly enjoyed her company, who wasn't after her because of her appearance, who treated her like an equal? Fran sighed. The feelings would settle down in due time. As for how long, she couldn't really tell. But at times, when she thought of the woman in the picture, she felt a pang in her heart that she was eager to be rid of.

Balthier climbed aboard. "My lady," he said, kneeling on one knee and taking her hand,"I would be honored if you would become my co-pilot. My life would be simply dreary without your majestic presence." He kissed her hand and looked up at her, with somewhat of a pleasant smirk.

"I accept," Fran replied, trying to hide the smile. Regardless of her feelings, temporary as they must be, something was right about staying with Balthier, girlfriend or not. He always brought a smile to her face, an expression that had become unfamiliar since she left Eruyt.

"Well then," Balthier said, standing up. "Welcome aboard." He shook her hand firmly. He seemed to love that mock formality of his.

"My wages, captain?" she asked, returning his tone. Balthier sat down in the captain's chair, and fired the engine.

"That all depends, Fran."

"On what?"

"The haul, of course. We are sky pirates, after all."

Sky pirates. It had a thrilling connotation, she had to admit. She had known of them back in Eruyt, of course, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would ever become one. Filled with an exhilarating sense of adventure, she took the co-pilot's seat. "Shall we get to work then?" she asked him, trying and failing to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

"Impatient, aren't we?" he replied with a smirk. Fran felt her cheeks grow warm. "Very well," he continued, and raised the Strahl.

"Where are we headed?" she asked quickly. She was surprised to see that he was setting off so quickly at her request.

"Archades, of course, where better?" he responded simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in Ivalice.

"The Imperial Palace?" she inquired, her eyes widening.

"Sky pirates, Fran," he reminded her. "No place deserves to be raided more," he added, with that dark tone escaping into his voice again. Fran did not respond, and an akward silence fell over them. Fran saw Balthier take a quick glance at the photo and she felt the all-too-familiar pang in her heart. He saw the look on her face.

"A story for another time, Fran," he said in a softer note. She knew he was referring to his comment about Archades.

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It was near midnight when they arrived.

With the Strahl cloaked and invisible, the two made their way into Archades. The city was deserted, and a few lights of sleepless residences were their only focal points. Fran waited silently with Balthier in an abandoned doorway, as his eyes took much longer than hers to adjust. With a nod from her captain, both crept quitely and carefully through shortcuts and alleys towards the looming palace. Fran was intrigued by how Balthier seemed to have mastered the layout of the Imperial city.

"We're almost there," Balthier whispered as they approached the end of an alley. Fran's ears picked up footsteps; it seemed that Balthier didn't. Before he walked too far, she grabbed his arm and pulled him back, and trusting her judgement, he stood flat against the wall, and she did the same. They waited without breathing, and an Imperial guard walked silently past the alley, thankfully without looking down into it. When he judged that the guard was a safe distance away, Balthier sighed in relief. Peering around the corner, he reached behind without looking for Fran's hand. She took his, and he looked back and nodded, and the two rounded a corner and sprinted silently towards the castle. When he sensed the risk was too high, he pulled her around a corner into a dead-end alley. Both paused to catch their breath, and Balthier looked up at his partner.

"So far, so good," he whispered, and she agreed with a nod.

They crept towards the main street and the castle was so close: a mere fifty yards away. Fran took a deep breath. This was it.

Balthier looked back and spoke with his expression, and Fran understood. He turned back and made sure all was clear. Then he took off. Fran followed close behind, matching his speed. They drew close, but Fran hadn't the slightest clue where exactly Balthier was headed; they couldn't possibly expect to waltz through the front entrance...could they?

"Balthier, I-" she began as quietly as she could, battling the need to speak up due to the sprinting and the need to be quiet for, well, obvious reasons. Balthier quickly turned his head to assure her quickly, then pulled her around the corner and dove behind the shrubbery that decorated the entrance. Fran quickly followed suit. Her heart was beating to a high-speed cadence; were they really about to infiltrate the Imperial palace?

As if in answer, Balthier squeezed her hand and turned his head to look at her. "This is what it's all about."

Fran would never be able to remember the next few minutes as more than a blur.

Without warning, Balthier suddenly felt the ground tensely, as if he had dropped something. She heard a metal clink against one of his rings, and, seeming to find what he was looking for, he grasped a metal ring and pulled, and to Fran's shock, a small square passage appeared from underneath the grass-covered wooden plank he had just lifted. Fran looked at him with a raised eyebrow. How much did this pirate know? Balthier laughed at her expression - much too loudly. Immediately Fran heard the sound of metal against stone as a guard had turned quickly in his spot.

"Who's there?!" he bellowed, and suddenly the sound of more imperials rushing to the scene filled the scene.

"Hurry!" Balthier hissed, beckoning at the dark passage. Fran immediately jumped in and began to fall. As she plummeted, she heard the wooden plank slam back into place, and she suddenly hit the ground with a sickening crack, and pain shot up her left arm. She gasped and grimaced, but quickly realized Balthier would soon be joining her, and she rolled to the side just before he landed.

"Are you alright?" he whispered quickly, searching for her in the dark that he could not yet see through.

"I'm fine," Fran lied, trying to keep the pain out of her voice. She knew that her wrist was broken.

"Good," he sighed. "Glad that my, er, less than graceful move might have cost us an injury or two..."

Fran didn't trust her voice to respond.

Balthier inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Alright then. Let's move."

Together they crept through the damp, dark pathway, with an occasional drip interrupting their tense silence. Finally, they reached what seemed to be the wall of the palace's basement. Balthier lightly touched the wall with his fingers and moved them around it's surface, as if searching for something. Normally Fran would have wondered what in Ivalice he was doing and how in Ivalice he knew how to do it, but the searing pain in her wrist ironically kept all her attention on ignoring it.

Balthier seemed to find what he was looking for. Backing up, he threw himself into the wall, and one of the stones grated against the mortar and fell with a thud that Fran was certain would wake the entire palace.

"Quickly!" Balthier exclaimed, hurriedly climbing through the breach in the wall. Fran clambered clumsily after him, favoring her broken wrist. She fell out onto the tiled floor of the palace, but the impact from the stone had chipped it, and now she had to deal with a cut-up knee as well as an injured wrist. She stood up and wavered before following a sprinting Balthier down the well-maintained and air conditioned hallway, his shoes clapping steadily along the glazed ceramic, hers clicking in an inconstant beat. She heared running footsteps on the ceiling above her, but she tried to focus on Balthier, on following him, on trying to ignore the pain that was dizzying her. Balhier made a sharp turn and threw open a door to the right, slamming it shut once Fran had followed him inside. Both were gasping for breath; the running combined with adrenaline did not do much to calm their lungs. However, they silenced themselves once they heard the dreaded footsteps approaching. The Hume and viera froze, their heartbeats became the only audible noise.

"Find them!" a voice barked, and on command, several armored footsteps filled the halls. "One at each door!"

And as the noise faded, the small and catastrophic mistake was made. Fran's heartbeat slowed, and slowly, silently, she let her breath escape. Balthier did the same. A few seconds, minutes, hours (Fran could no longer distinguish time) passed. In an act of comfort, Balthier reached out and took Fran's hand. The searing pain again shot up her arm and she cried out in anguish, pulling her hand back forcefully and falling back into the wooden shelves that lined the walls, and their contents spilled forward onto the floor, crashing, cracking, crumbling. Fran's heart seemed to stop.

"Here!" a gruff voice shouted from just outside the door. The metal footsteps resumed and the door flew open. The next thing Fran knew, cold metal fingers had taken hold of her arms and she was dragged mercilessly out of the room. Balthier was dragged out behind her.

"Thought you'd rob the palace, thieves?!" the Imperial holding Fran spat. Fran said nothing. The burning in her arm had taken her ability to speak. "I'm TALKING to you, you filthy shrew"  
"Leave her!" Balthier yelled from behind.

"Oh," the guard replied, turning to face an enraged Balthier. "I'm sorry," he said in a tone dripping with malice. His iron-clad hand was raised, and came down with terrifying force. Fran was sent sprawling across the floor as Balthier struggled furiously against the men holding him back. Fran coughed and tasted blood. "Had enough?" Fran couldn't respond. "ANSWER ME!" She looked up at him lazily, consciousness slipping away. His foot connected with her stomach, and she could no longer breathe.

"You BASTARD!" Balthier screamed at him, only to be answered with a blow to the side of his head. This silenced him, he slumped to the floor and did not move.

Fran's vision was swimming, and soon there was nothing at all.

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Not sure what I think of this one. Ah well. Again, sorry it took so long, ad I'm sorry I haven't replied to all of your reviews, I'll get to it eventually, I've just been so busy x.x. But I greatly appreciate every review, good or bad, and eventually they will all be answered. .


	7. Old Dham

Can I even begin to apologize for taking so long?

I'm really so sorry. My life got flipped upside down and there's so much to deal with...

It has been a really long time...and I really hope I haven't lost any fans.

Note: The new character Dham is based off of my late grandfather. Real lovable guy.

Usual disclaimer.

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Fran's head was swimming. How long had she been out? She couldn't tell. She sat up slowly, but the pain that ignited in her head was so severe she had to lie back down. She opened her eyes and was staring up at a stone ceiling. Sand clung to her skin as she moved her hand to her stomach, but drew it back immediately as she saw the bruise that seemed to cover at least two-thirds of her midsection. She tried to move her other hand, the one with the broken wrist, but she could not. She touched it slightly but hissed as the searing pain returned.

Bringing her hand to her face, she felt the unevenness of her skin caked with dried blood. She scratched at it lightly, chipping it off until her face was clean. At least she no longer had the taste of blood in her mouth. Her vision was blurred, but she opened her eyes as she scanned the dark, sandy room for Balthier. Her eyes rested on a dark shape in the corner, and as her ears perked up she heard raspy breathing as his chest rose and fell. She couldn't reach him right now in the state she was in.

She looked down at her wrist and felt her heart sink to the bottom of her stomach. With her good hand, she clasped her broken wrist and hissed at the discomfort. She knew she had to do this or else her wrist would fuse like this permanently. Holding on tighter, she held her breath and pulled. She tried to silence her scream but could not, and tried to get the job done as quick as possible, moving her hand this way and that, and finally she felt it set into place. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to control her breathing as she rode out the pain. Finally, the throbbing ebbed, and she breathed a sigh of relief, fighting to sit up, leaning against the cold stone wall. How she wished for the crushed herbs so plentiful by the entrance to Eruyt that made pain non-existant for the day.

"I'm sorry," said a wheezy voice.

Fran turned her head. Balthier was on his side, facing her, eyes full of shame. Fran met his gaze. He struggled up to his knees and crawled towards her, collapsing next to her, their backs against the wall. He turned his head to face her. She said nothing.

"Fran..." he continued, but she shook her head, silencing him.

She stood up, and unsteadily walked out of the room. She couldn't let him see her so weak like this, she didn't want to cry in front of him. Not that she was crying. Not yet, anyway.

She made her way to the center of this...dungeon. She looked up to see the moon and scattered stars casting their light upon the other 'guests', sleeping in their spots. She looked at each inmate, quickly moving on when she caught the eye of a hungry, glaring Bangaa.

She lay her hand on the old wall of the underground dungeon and felt the sand trickle down her wrist and on to the ground. She needed to begin to search for a way out, and felt slightly guilty for walking out on Balthier. She wandered back slowly, but when she reached the room she had woken up in, Balthier was gone. Turning back around, she began again at a slightly quicker pace.

She wandered around the desolate, stony walkways, not really sure what she was looking for. Perhaps food, water...perhaps a way out.

She entered a small, dank room with an overpowering musky scent. Coughing, she turned to back out, but a small door in the center of the wall caught her eye. She walked toward it, limping slightly. She examined the old door. It was splintering and rotten in places, and the doorknob was dented and tarnished. With her good hand, she grasped it firmly, and twisted. Nothing. She tried the other way. Nothing. Finally, she just pulled, and the damned thing came straight off, and Fran followed it right to the ground, a puff of sandy dust rising up and clouding her vision. She heard a low, full cackle and whipped around as fast as her injured body could, startled.

"What do you want?" she uttered in an uncharacteristically weak voice.

"Bwah-ha-haaaah! Oh-ho-hoh, I'm sorry hun, you gave me quite a comedic show there," said the voice, coming from a dark corner. The voice was slow, low, and had a raspy quality to it. Fran crawled forward a bit, squinting into the darkness, and slowly, the form of a large, old Seeq formed in front of her. His bluish skin was dusty, rough, and wrinkled, and the crow's feet near his eyes turned into what seemed an entire tributary system when he laughed his deep laugh. Fran hadn't a clue whether to let herself feel safe or stay on guard.

"Why so scared, hunny?" the Seeq began again in his slow, low tone. "I'm not gonna hurt ya. An old Seeq like me can't even manage to stand up by his'self. But whatrya even doin' down here?" he gave her a smile. "They lock you up down here fer ya good looks?

At this, Fran pulled herself to her feet and started again towards the old door. She wasn't going to sit there and be hit on by an old, criminal Seeq.

"Now, now there!" he cried. "I didn't mean nothin' by it! Don't be offended, hun. Yer not gonna last too long if ya react at every lil' thing."

Fran, still not in the mood for friendly discussion, inspected the hole where the doorknob used to be for some way to open the door.

The Seeq sighed. "Don't bother, hun. Th' door's been shut fer gods know how long. It ain't gonna open. Yer gonna have to find another way out."

Fran met the old Seeq's eyes. "I never said I was attempting to flee."

The Seeq raised an eyebrow that didn't even seem to have the energy to move. "Ya don't see many a folk walkin' down here. They've all given up, an' rightly so. Nobody who can escape stays, an' everybody who can't escape gives up, plops down, and stays. And waits. An' they wait fer an awful long time. Till death takes 'em from their tired bodies."

Fran's ears perked a bit. "But people have escaped successfully?"

The old Seeq chuckled. "A lucky few brats, hunny, a lucky few brats. All do it differently." He paused for a moment, seeming to be deep in thought. As if suddenly remembering her presence, he acknowledged her again. "Ya never did answer old Dham. Why'rya down here anyway? Shouldn't you be up there finding yourself a nice boy or somethin?"

Of all the possible conversation topics! Fran did not feel like speaking to this old Seeq in the least, but she could sense his loneliness, and she felt sympathy for him, being trapped all alone in this small room in this dank dungeon for gods know how many years.

"It is not my top priority," she responded, walking towards him and kneeling next to him to sit on her heels.

"Now there's a smart girl. But now ya can't be all too smart, or ya wouldn'ta landed yerself down here! What'd they throw ya here for?"

Fran considered her answer. She couldn't really say sky pirating, but...

"Sky pirating."

"Bwah-ha-haaaaaah! Oh hunny you've gotta be kiddin' me! Who gotcha inta that mess?"

"...a nice boy."

"Ah, fair enough, darlin'. Fair enough. Now give old Dham a hand, here, would ya? No way I'm standin' up on my lonesome. And I gotta take ya somewhere, so ya might as well help an old fool up."

Refraining from steadying herself with her bad hand, Fran offered the Seeq her good one, planted a heel in the wall, and heaved as the Seeq rose to his feet.

"Thanks hunny. Now walk with me a little."

What else was there to do?

With the moonlight spilling in every now and then, Fran limped slightly and old Dham lumbered awkwardly through the dungeon, speaking of old Dham's old jewelry store he held in Nalbina, that was, of course, until he finally confronted the wrong man of stealing from him now and then and in the blink of an eye he lost the store and ended up in the Nalbina dungeon for gods know how long it has been.

And, eventually, something about the old Seeq's charm got Fran to open up, and for the first time in a while, she found herself speaking of her sisters and her old Home, and her new life outside the wood. And all the while old Dham listened and nodded and threw in his two gil where they were needed. It was a good thing they then arrived at there destination before Fran had to think of a way to avoid the topic of Balthier.

"Now, hunny, this may be you're esca-"

"There you are!"

Fran turned to see Balthier coming towards her, weapons in hand. Dham stepped back a bit, raising an eyebrow at Fran, who avoided the look.

Balthier dropped the weapons with a loud clang that Fran swore could have waken the dead.

"Easy there, boy! You'll wake the guards!" Dham said quickly. Balthier paid him no heed. He instead grasped Fran's hand, kissed it, and held it against his chest with both hands. Looking into her eyes with that same look of shame, he continued.

"I know this is all my fault, and I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, so I won't. I will help you out of here and you will never have to see me again. Just please understand that I never meant to hurt you."

Fran thought she heard metallic footsteps in the distance.

Balthier picked up a gun off the ground and holstered it properly, then gave Fran back her bow and quiver.

"I am so sorry."

"Well, boy, yer right on schedule!" Dham interjected.

"Pardon me?"

"Well correct me if I'm wrong (which I often am) but you wanna escape to, do ya not? Well listen. Look at this getup here."

Fran and Balthier observed what appeared to be an old well turned holding cell/torture device that reached up to the ceiling. Rather than a bucket the chain held a cage, and Fran assumed it was meant for submerging the unlucky resident.

"Now they tried to install this a whiles ago but it never functioned properly. Kept goin' haywire and movin' and down and all around and such. So they had to secure it with this."

Dham motioned to a bar shoved through chain links as Fran heard the metallic footsteps clanking nearer.

"Move this thing here the wrong way and one thing goes up, another goes down, and someone's gonna get hurt, you mark my words. Cage shoots straight up inta the ceiling! Wild stuff, wild stuff. But if ya wanna escape, it jus' might work."

The footsteps were so loud that even Dham could hear them now.

"Welp, no time to discuss safety. In ya get there, both of ya."

"Aren't you coming?" Fran asked, her heart speeding up from fear of being caught and her eagerness to escape, but also from worry for her new friend.

"You crazy, hunny? That thing may be crazy but it won't lift me. 'Sides, somebody's gotta let it go."

The footsteps drew nearer. Balthier stepped in the rickety cage.

"There's no time to waste," he said, offering Fran his hand. Fran took it and stepped in.

"Please come with us," she asked. For a stranger, he had shown her a kindness that was rare in the outside world.

Dham laughed. "Bwah-hah, I told you already, hunny. I wish I could but I can't."

And just then, the footsteps rounded the corner.

"Hurry now! Hold on!" Dham shouted as he grasped the bar that was shoved through the chain links.

"Dham! Wait!"

But just then, Dham pulled with all his strength and the bar came right out, releasing the chains, and sending the cage containing Balthier and Fran straight up towards the ceiling, and with a crash, it connected with the stone. Balthier climbed out on the outside of the cage and grasped the top of the ceiling through the area that let the moonlight in.

"We must go back for him!" Fran shouted, worried for her friend.

"That's nonsense, Fran! Grab my hand!"

And with that, Balthier looped Fran over the top and pulled himself up after her. Fran looked again over the edge, and her heart stopped.

"Deciding to be a hero, are we?" snarled a soldier as he cornered Dham. "Helping a friend escape, are we?! Now you'll pay!"

And with that, the soldier raised his gun and slammed it into the back of Dham's head.

And without a word of protest, Dham fell to the dusty ground, lifeless, and Fran's scream echoed throughout the dungeon.


End file.
